


Assassination

by Shadsie



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Blood, Death, Gen, Graphic Violence, Horror, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 03:58:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10563231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadsie/pseuds/Shadsie
Summary: A Yiga punk gets lucky.





	

**ASSASSINATION**

**A Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Fan Fiction**

 

 

 

They’d met in the rain.    
  
The rain had become a howling gale, then a downpour and then a full-on thunderstorm with lightning striking the small, scarce trees on the field all around.  Of course Link was out riding in the middle of it and had been caught in the middle of a grove of trees just as the lightning had started.  He’d stopped and dismounted when he saw a man huddled in what was left of the walls of a ruined house, looking lost.    
  
The man looked up at the silent rider.  “I’m lost,” he said.  “Do you know the way to Gerudo Desert?” 

 

Link regarded him with a look that surely betrayed the essence of how far away that region was. How someone who was looking for the desert managed to get stranded in the ridge-lands he’d never know – at least for someone deliberately looking for a locale, rather than just aimlessly wandering, which is what he’d been doing for the time being. Hunting and gathering for one’s meals didn’t do itself.   The rain poured off his hood, which itself was getting soaked through to his hair.  He gave the traveler a smile and was about to answer as well as offer a ride to the stable so they could both get out of the storm when the traveler suddenly took an aggressive stance. 

 

“I need a nice souvenir to take back to the desert.  Hmmm…what would make a lovely gift?  How about…YOUR HEAD!” 

 

Damn.  One of these losers again.  Link wished he could tell the Yiga footmen that, while he had defeated Kohga in battle, the man’s demise was ultimately his own.  Being of the old Hyrule Knight’s code, he’d been prepared to offer the man mercy if he’d taken it, but he’d ultimately done something incredibly stupid and was destroyed by his own would-be last-ditch “ultimate” attack.   Link wished he could get rid of them all in one fell swoop.  Defeating their leader had only made them more aggressive.  The young wanderer had taken to only lightly dozing when he camped in the wild, even when he’d found a place free of monsters because of these Yiga-jerks.  He only ever got a full night’s rest anymore when at a stable or in city inn where people came and went at all hours, making it impossible to have someone sneak up on him in his sleep.  He wondered how long it would go on and groaned whenever he thought of the possibility of living to be as aged as Impa with these people still after him.  He was prepared for it, if need be. If one of the memories he’d freshly regained was accurate, he’d been protecting Princess Zelda from them even one-hundred years ago. 

 

As it was, he was beset by at least one Yiga assassin at least once a day.  They appeared out of thin air randomly on the roads, when he was out hunting, or like this one, taking advantage of his good graces by pretending to be someone in distress.  Link hated the way he “fell” for this on a frequent basis, but the truth was, sometimes people in need of help really were people in need of help.  He was willing to risk a fight rather than do nothing and risk the lives of random citizens of Hyrule.  The would-be killers proved easy enough for him to best.  Occasionally he’d get a few scrapes or a small cut for his trouble before the cowards took their bleeding carcasses away in a puff of smoke, dropping their pocket-money and a small bunch of bananas. 

 

Link sighed and drew his sword as the traveler changed out of his disguise in a puff of red smoke.  He’d taken the Master Sword recently and briefly wondered if the spirit of the blade was as annoyed with the Yiga as he was.  The Yiga clansman teleported around in bursts of glowing magic.  Link cringed at his annoying laugh.  Why did they all feel the need to laugh?  At least this one wasn’t one of the big guys.  He’d been, unfortunately, caught in a weakened state the first time he’d met one of them outside of the Yiga Clan’s base, where he’d used stealth to get his way through.  He’d already been wounded fighting a particularly aggressive moblin that had given him a hard kick to the ribs and a spear-tip jab to the shoulder.  Fortunately, his horse had been quick to come when called and he’d mounted up, annoyed with himself for having fled the fight, but Hyrule was counting on him to live another day.  He’d managed to fight off a few of the “muscle” goons since then.  They were tough and gave Link some legitimate fear.  The smaller, “lightfoots” were more agile, but not as strong and fairly easy to defeat with some quick dodging and a good sword.    
  
Of course, now Link had the best sword.

 

This guy wasn’t one of the archers – he was one of the users of a circular blade.  Link jumped as the clansman appeared in front of him.  The young knight was nearly gutted.  He dodged and delivered a punishing blow with the Master Sword.  The Yiga teleported with a laugh, leaving a small trail of blood to follow in the rain.    
  
Yah! The curved blade bit into Link’s left arm.  He butted the assailant with his shield with a grunt.  He looked around, above himself at the trees, around himself as the thunder crashed around and lighting turned a tree several feet away to turn into burning kindling.  He swiped for a red glow, only for the Yiga to teleport, leaving him to cut only the air.    
  
A moment later, an incredible force hit him square in the back.  All of the air left Link’s lungs as the ground rushed up before him.  Before he knew it, his face was down in the mud and a searing agony shot through his spine between his shoulders.  There was a tingling numbness somewhat below that. Further down there was nothing - absolutely nothing.    
  
Link tried to pick himself up only to realize that he couldn’t feel his feet, his legs and had only the ghost of feeling in his arms – which were very cold.  He saw the blade of the Master Sword in the torn grass, still in his hand, rain spattering off of it.  Everything save the rain and the wind was silence.  There was no laughter from the Yiga clansman. 

 

The assassin stood above his prey, looking down in utter surprise.  The circular blade was embedded firmly in the Hero’s back, the blue tunic and the dark hood stained fresh red, the bloom growing as its victim made an involuntary twitch.    

 

He’d done it!  He’d actually done it!  Master Kohga was avenged!  This definitely would secure him as the new leader of the Yiga – if Kohga had been the Master, Nya would be the Grandmaster!    
  
Oh, the clansman felt pleased with himself.  He was given the name of “Nya” not only because it sounded vaguely like “banana,” but because it was the sound that a cat makes and he was a person of quick, catlike reflexes.  He had proved it today. 

 

He wrenched his weapon out of Link’s back, eliciting another involuntary spasm from the fallen former knight.  The rain began to let up, allowing the clansman to get a very good look at the greasy blood lining the metal.  It hadn’t come out easily – he’d definitely struck bone, apparently severing the spine.   The victim definitely was not getting up again.   

 

The Yiga assassin pondered the Hero’s weapon.  “That’s a nice sword,” he hissed.  As he attempted to pick it up, not only did it prove to be too heavy to lift – inexplicably weighted, once he’d firmly grabbed the hilt, a shock of pain lanced into his hand and up his arm.    
  
“Gah!” Nya yelped.  The storm had passed and there was no longer any lightning for the metal to attract. Link had been taking a risk with it.  The unexplained shock had hurt.  The wound in the clansman’s side throbbed, too. Fortunately for him, it hadn’t been too deep – not enough for him to flee, although it would definitely require treatment.  He grunted and decided to leave the sword alone.  It was a double-edged piece – not the style of sword that the Yiga preferred.   
  
Nya crouched close to Link, edging in to get a good look at his face.  He whispered into the fallen man’s pointy ear.  “I’ll be taking that gift for the desert now.” 

 

He curled his fingers into Link’s drenched hair, pulling back the hood.  He entwined them over the back of the scalp and the nape of the neck, grabbing roughly into the ponytail.    
  
“Still holding on, I see,” Nya said as he lifted Link’s head up.  Link’s face was locked into an expression like a snarling lynel.  His eyes gazed up at the assassin, defiant, and his teeth were clenched.  “That’s a good look on you,” the killer teased.  “Let’s preserve it forever, shall we?” 

 

With that, the Yiga took his blade in one hand while holding Link’s hair firmly in the other and, with one swift strike, separated head from body.    
  
“I’m disappointed,” he said as Link’s face did not keep that angered expression.  Everything went lax. The eyes closed.  The color drained from the skin along with the blood that Nya let pour upon the ground as he held his grisly prize by the hair.   He set it down on the wet grass for a moment to strip the stained tunic off of Link’s torso to wrap the head in – the Champion’s Tunic being definitive proof of whom he’d just killed.   Nya then summoned a wooden box – something with straps which he could cart on his back as storage for his trophy.    
  
_____________________________________________________

 

 

Later that day, a rider coming out from Serene Stable would discover what remained of the murder victim – including a piece of lost technology strapped to his hip and a simple-looking sword that was strangely unable to be lifted from the ground. 

 

  
  
______________________________________________________

 

 

When Nya returned to Yiga headquarters in Karusa Valley, he bragged to his brethren.  Archer, blade master and big muscle alike clamored for proof of the kill he was yammering on about.  He opened his box and unwrapped its contents. 

 

“For Kohga!” went the cry.  Music was called for. Banana daiquiris were prepared.  The Hero’s head was placed upon a central platform.  As anticipated, everyone bowed to Nya and declared him the new Master of the Yiga – in fact, they declared him the Grandmaster, for he had done what even Master Kohga had failed to do. 

 

“Indeed, a fine gift to bring to the desert,” he said, mocking Link.  “Now, I shall have whatever I want.  All of the women in the clan will be mine!  I’ll have first claim to all the treasure!  My techniques will be passed down forever!  I am immortal!” 

 

“And surely, we will have the blessing of Ganon!” various Yiga exclaimed. 

 

“He shall grant us his power and we will rule over all!”

 

“Everyone shall fear our blades and bow to us now that the Hero is no more!”

 

“We are Hero Killers!” 

 

“Ahem!  Aren’t you forgetting that I am the killer?” Nya interjected.    
  
What he did not want to admit was that he had just gotten lucky.  He had not known where that last teleportation would take him, since his wounds had made him sloppy.  It had been sheer blind luck that he’d poofed right behind Link.  It didn’t matter.  Right now, a sexily-deadly Yiga woman was tending to his wounds and fawning over him without her mask on.  He had unmasked himself at this point in order that all of his new minions have his face burned upon their collective consciousness before he donned the appropriate Yiga ceremonial mask to wear in presenting himself to the rest of Hyrule. 

 

There was talk of joining consciousness with Ganon to enjoy immortality.  There were shouts that Ganon would grant them kingship and immortality as individuals.  They anticipated the return of lost technology – for their own uses and enrichment, of course.  No one had any clear idea of what Ganon would grant them, but they had great anticipation that all of their lusts and desires would be fulfilled and that they’d finally procured their revenge – upon the Hylian Royal Family, upon the Hylian race in general, upon the servile-dog Sheikah, upon the Zora, whom they would soon be turning into sushi, upon the Gerudo, whom they were soon to enslave, upon the Rito, whom they’d strip from the sky – upon everyone – those who would bow to them and those who would not.

 

At the height of the celebration a great and thunderous noise rose outside.  Members of the clan rushed out of their cavern and teleported upon the canyon walls to get a view. 

 

“Something is happening at the castle” one of the burly guardsmen said. 

 

Nya shielded his eyes from the sun to get a better look.  The swirling shadow – their master, Ganon, was no longer wending aimlessly among the turrets of the distant palace.  What looked to be a great spherical aura of black energy erupted from the center of the castle.  A pillar of white light shone and cracked.  The blackness spread until it exploded into what could only be described as a creeping smoke, as deep as Void.    
  
“It…it’s creeping across the land?  I cannot see anything beyond the horizon!” the guard said. 

 

Suddenly, the entire Yiga Clan, almost as one, screamed.    
  
Something crept into their souls in that moment – an inner voice, or perhaps just a stark realization. 

 

“Ganon does not share power,” Nya mouthed to himself helplessly. 

 

Standing upon a canyon cliff, he drew his circular blade.  It still had streaks of Link’s blood on it.     
  
“What… what have I done?” the assassin asked himself, aloud. 

 

The legendary Hero-Long-Dead was, according to the tales, the only one (along with the “long-dead” Princess) who could beat back Calamity Ganon.  As the horizon became a Void of nothing but black (something deeper than black) and the shadows began creeping over the distant mountains, swallowing everything in their path, the entire Yiga Clan, as one, realized that they were not dealing with a mere sorcerer or demon who could and would grant them power, but with a cosmic force. 

 

…A cosmic force that could have been stopped had they not murdered the Hero. 

 

Existence entire was forfeit.  First would come the Shadow, then the deep chill and the silence. The worst of it was that Nya knew that he had time to think about the End before it came. He already felt the kind of cold he’d only experienced when hunting down their target on the Tabantha Tundra creep into his bones. 

 

That was when he saw the rest of his clan draw their blades and bows and turn to stare directly at him. 

 

At least, it seemed, in waiting for the End, he would not have to wait for as long as he thought. 

 

He laughed.  He could do nothing but.  The darkness and silence were coming for them all. 

 

 

**END.**

**Shadsie, 2017.**

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a meeting with one of the Yiga near Serene Stable I had in the game. It went differently in my gameplay – since it happened at a point where I was finding them easy to defeat. I just really liked that one’s dialogue about wanting to bring a gift to Gerudo Desert – “YOUR HEAD!” The Yiga are wonderfully over the top (and also dangerous. I made the mistake of taking the Nabooris quest as my first Divine Beast quest and wound up getting the Yiga on me – in force – before I was ready to deal with them frequently, particularly the big muscle-guys). 
> 
> I also cribbed a bit for this from my own work. I have an original short story with a dark bent (that I based on a dream) titled “The Indifferent World.” It’s posted on my account on Deviant Art if anyone wants to look it up. It’s a story about a world nearing its end that a person from our world is expected to save through her rationality. I did something thematically similar here. (As of writing this) I have yet to face off against Calamity Ganon, but from my understanding, he really is more of a “mindless cosmic force” now than our beloved old Ganondorf.


End file.
